


A Deeper Kind of Red

by Hyungwons



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Eventual Smut, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, god will never forgive me for this, slight hint of fluff if you can find it, vampire hyungwon and human wonho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8049223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyungwons/pseuds/Hyungwons
Summary: Hoseok hadn't expected to be saved by his icy embrace nor the fear and danger in his eyes, but still he found his home with him, with Hyungwon.





	A Deeper Kind of Red

**Author's Note:**

> Woah I've been working on this fic for Months but at long last I've finally finished the first chapter  
> This'll probably be around 4-5 chapters but nothing more than that most likely, so I'll add tags as I go (but really, if I have to tag all the kinks that'll be in this fic later I'll Burn and Cry for the rest of my life).

It’s quiet, too quiet for him to stand. The sound of his footsteps barely even ringing in his ears as he strolls down the sidewalk, not a person in sight. There should be sound, he knows this, yet all he can hear is the ringing in his ears and the blood pumping through his veins, rushing to his head, and the way his ears exaggerate all the sounds of his body moving and he hears loud violent cracks of bones like glass shattering. But perhaps that is appropriate. After all the things Hoseok’s seen, watched, learned, and even dares to live, the world itself is like glass to him, glass that cracks with every breath; fragile. And he feels like he’s just going through each day waiting for when it’ll shatter. But the sounds around him should bounce off that glass and the chilling wind causing him to shudder should whistle against it as well.

But instead it’s all quiet, like the whole world froze around him and time has stopped, and it scares him .

His legs drag him faster, soles of his shoes scraping against the cement as his steps become longer, lighter, and quieter as he slips through the shadows, like someone’s following him or the darkness will devour him if he doesn’t hurry or isn’t as quiet as that of which surrounds him. He doesn’t hear a sound but that doesn’t stop it from feeling like the whole world is crashing around him and the thin sheet of glass that covers his world is cracking. And soon he’s practically sprinting, his eyes focused on a single house as he blocks everything else out, letting his mind haze it out with a thick black fog over his vision, causing him to not lose focus. The blood is rushing to his head, pumping in his ears and his heart is pounding against his chest, threatening to burst as it rises into his throat. He tries to swallow it back down but everything just catches in his throat instead, making his mind race in a panic

But luckily it’s not far now, just a few more hurried steps and he’s there, pounding on the front door of the house. He doesn’t lose focus, he doesn’t even notice as the curtains are drawn, no lights peeking out from them. It’s no surprise anyway and not just because it’s well past eleven at night and most of the neighbourhood is already sleeping soundly as he’s never been more awake, more aware of the danger around him. He knows what’s there, the secrets and the dangers that lurk in the darkness, and he knows it’s following him, closing in on him and waiting to destroy him. He pounds again on the door, once, twice, and he pushes the doorbell with as much force as he can. His mind is screaming and each passing second is like an hour in solitude, an hour alone with danger surrounding him. But that’s just his shot nerves and panicked mind racing that are distorting his judgement of time; in reality, it hadn’t taken much longer than a minute for the door to creak open and standing beyond it was a rather looming figure that makes Hoseok feel towered over.

The man’s brown hair is a complete mess, bangs a mess and stray hairs sticking in every direction. His eyelids drooping with sleep and burning with a darkness beyond anything Hoseok has ever seen. He stares at Hoseok as though he has never seen him before, as though he’s annoyed with his presence and his sleep well disturbed. And Hoseok stares back, studying once again how his eyes are the most burning shade of red, completely able to burn through one’s mind like fire (and the centre of the iris is oddly silver in colour, contrasting rather beautifully and terrifyingly well with the red).

Hoseok’s throat begins to tighten around his heart that pounded violently inside it, the thumping practically visible, and he can barely find words to say. For a moment he stands that and wonders if the dangers he had been running from were actually waiting for him in this house — his house. But he knows that isn’t true and pushes those negative thoughts aside as he looks away from the sickly pale man so as to catch his lost breath.

The man is the first to speak, the darkness in his eyes fading just slightly as he brings a hand up to rub the sleep away. “Ah, Hoseok. Good to see you are home,” his voice is groggy and it sounds even worse against the silence that still surrounds them both. He steps to the side and Hoseok pushes in quickly, closing the door behind him with a slight bang. “Something wrong?”

“I-I think one of them is following me…” Hoseok speaks with a hushed voice as though cautious if they can still hear him.

The man’s red eyes darken once more, their shade burning an even more vibrant red under the dim lighting. “Are you certain?”

“Positive.”

He sees the man grit his teeth in anger for a moment, peeking out one of the windows and staring into the darkness for any signs. “You are unharmed?” Hoseok simply answers with a nod of his head. He hadn’t seen the creature, but he was able to sense it out there, its eyes following him closer as it crept behind every blindspot. With a sigh, the brunet heads back over to him and carefully slides off his coat. “Well, you are safe at least. Come, I will prepare dinner.”

“Thanks, Hyungwon,” Hoseok comments, smiling at the man as he neatly places his shoes off to the side, the fear he felt earlier gone almost entirely with the help of just a few simple words. Hyungwon, with a soft smile, gives a wave of his hand before disappearing into the kitchen with Hoseok soon following.

There is a piercing and irritating click as the burner on the stove is lit and Hyungwon puts a large pot of water over it, freezing for a moment as he begins to tap a slender finger impatiently on the counter beside him. His brows furrow and he closes his lips tightly into a thin line, staring coldly at the pot.

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asks as he takes a step into the dark, gloomy kitchen of his own home. He would click a light on so he can see more clearly, but he knows that is a bad idea and he learned that lesson the hard way some time ago, bringing him to avoid nearly all light switches and allowing his eyes to adjust to such darkness with time. With a sigh from Hyungwon, he spins his lanky figure around to face Hoseok (who practically jumps up with a gasp from the sudden and nearly aggressive movement).

“I wanted to start making dinner for you every day… however, I don’t know what.” He looks over his shoulder at the stove, making a face of disgust at the old thing and cursing under his breath.

A chuckle pulls from Hoseok’s throat, ringing through the oddly quiet room as he comes up to Hyungwon’s side, pushing him away from the stove with a few strong shoves of his elbow. “I’ll take over from here.” At first Hyungwon’s ready to protest at the idea, frowning and flaring his nostrils at the mere suggestion. He wants to be the one to cook for Hoseok, the blond works hard enough every day with balancing work schedules for two part-time jobs and the instrument lessons that Hyungwon gives him in his free time on the side as is while Hyungwon sits in the back and watches from his own dark corner with his old books and laptop (to which he’s become oddly attached to despite his constant complaints about the performance issues it has). But he ignores all of that as he shrugs it all away, shifting his weight to one leg and letting the other loosely angle out in front him with his arms folded over his chest.

“Y’know, for someone who has had years to learn, you don’t know how to cook a damn thing, do you?” Hoseok comments in, a mocking tone to his voice as he smirks in Hyungwon’s direction.

“I grew up a rich, spoiled brat who had others cook for me, and by the time I was living on my own, fending for myself, food was no longer a necessity nor money.” Hoseok gives a shrug in response, understanding Hyungwon’s reasoning. The brunet puts on a somewhat satisfied smirk to himself when Hoseok turns away, as though he believes he just won a heated argument. “Besides, tell me, what are you making?” he asks, knowing full well that Hoseok doesn’t know how to cook much, either (certainly more than Hyungwon does at the very least, but not much and it’s obvious).

“The only thing I can make, of course,” Hoseok answers without so much as a glance at Hyungwon as he reaches into one of the cabinets above the counter.

“Ramen?”

“Ramen,” Hoseok deadpans back.

Hyungwon lets out a small laugh to himself under his breath before shifting his weight once more and sighing, shaking his head at the blond. “I will leave you to it then.”

And it’s only a couple of minutes later that Hoseok calls Hyungwon’s name in a shout, grabbing the mitts that hang loosely on the handle of the oven lifting the slightly heavy pot of noodles from the stove to bring with him into the living room. He immediately spots Hyungwon seated on the sofa with two bowls and chopsticks already prepared and an odd look of excitement written across his face, to which Hoseok raises a brow at. He doesn’t understand why Hyungwon looks so excited over some food, especially since it isn’t anything expensive or fancy and even more so since Hoseok isn’t the best cook out there.

However, he supposes it’s funny in its own way actually; Hyungwon can’t even taste any food that Hoseok makes (though thinking about it now, Hoseok wonders if that’s more sad than funny) and he doesn’t even need to eat it. All food, no matter how cheap or expensive, how much or how little, it doesn’t matter because all of it is tasteless to Hyungwon anyway. For Hyungwon the taste is no different than drinking a glass of water with an empty stomach; the cool feeling filling him and washing over him no matter how hot the food actually is. And it never burned his tongue and throat either, instead it felt almost grainy over his tongue and sometimes a bit harsh in his throat, like sand.

It’s disgusting descriptions like that from Hyungwon that makes Hoseok wonder why he ever still bothers to eat the food he makes, and Hyungwon even makes sure to never waste even a single bite of the food Hoseok makes. As for Hoseok, he even always continues to cook for two despite how much he used to call it a waste years ago.

And it doesn’t take long for Hyungwon to begin digging into the pot of noodles as eagerly as a human who hasn’t eaten yet today. Hoseok supposes it’s a bit precious how he still gets excited over his cooking like this and he watches with a smile.

“It’s delicious!” Hyungwon finally compliments the meal, grinning from ear to ear as he reaches for more. And Hoseok studies the way his fangs curve so perfectly over his bottom teeth, unable to find them at all dangerous with the beautifully soft and sweet smile that currently surrounds them, yet Hoseok still sees them as somewhat of a mystery. 

With a sigh, Hoseok finally grabs a bowl and a pair of chopsticks and reaches for the pot on the coffee table in front of them. “Let’s go out to dinner tomorrow,” Hoseok suddenly puts in, catching Hyungwon’s attention as his deep red eyes widen at the sudden _demand_. Before Hyungwon can protest or find any excuse, Hoseok’s lips curve into a slight smirk as he adds in a hurried voice, “at ten o’clock like usual, don’t worry.”

Hoseok can only assume that Hyungwon’s lack of protest and sigh of defeat that follows those words can only be his fear of being ‘improper’ (a common word for Hyungwon to bite out at nearly all other humans and trivial everyday things).

 

\---

 

The night lingered on well past midnight yet there is Hoseok, needing to be awake by nine in the morning but instead with a pencil in hand and leaning far too close to the sketchbook on his lap to ever be good for his eyes. But the bedroom is dimly lit, nothing he isn’t already used to but still burning at his focused eyes. He never complains about the darkness of his own home though as it is actually necessary that it’s dark, as little light illuminating through the halls as possible; Hyungwon’s eyes are far too sensitive to bright lights. 

At first Hoseok thought it was a joke and complained how Hyungwon would never let him turn on any of the lights when they already had all the curtains drawn. He learned the hard way the reason why Hyungwon always wanted to just rip the lamps and the dining room chandelier right out of the walls and ceiling. He learned when he flicked on a light switch in the kitchen and stood back in a panic as Hyungwon’s pupils shrunk far more than normal before he bolted from the room and cowered in the safety corner of his darkness as a panicked mess. And it took mere seconds for Hyungwon’s eyes to become so violently bloodshot that they appeared almost entirely red all around, and it took much longer than that for his blurred and spotted vision to return to normal and the throbbing migraine that pounded behind his eyes and all around the lids to finally fade.

Hyungwon did forgive Hoseok for that accident, never actually even showing any annoyance or anger at him despite having told him several times that the rooms can’t be too bright. Hoseok wonders if he ever fully forgave himself though, but it has become a rather running joke for the two of them even now, so he figures he may have. Of course, sitting in the darkness for so long and focusing so hard did eventually affect Hoseok’s eyes as well, but it’s nothing compared to whatever hell Hyungwon would have to go through.

Hoseok supposes it’s a little sad as well that Hyungwon can neither go outside and enjoy the beauty of the sun’s rays on his sickly skin, nor stand in a room lit by more than just a few candles or burning out light bulbs. But Hoseok never says anything and Hyungwon never complains.

And that’s why, even if it means damaging his eyes beyond belief, Hoseok will always prefer sitting there, sketching away at his book lit only by the cheap desk lamp and the dimmed television, with Hyungwon pressing himself against his back, arms wrapped around his body and chin rested on his shoulder. He’s watching from over the blond’s shoulder as he sketches a rather beautiful forest as its leaves dance in the autumn wind.

As Hyungwon begins to hum gently in his ear, a quiet lullaby to soothe them both into a peaceful and gentle atmosphere, Hoseok lets his eyes slip close at the sound of it, at the sound of Hyungwon’s beautiful voice. And he puts the pencil down on the book, letting out a sigh as he drops his head back to let it rest on Hyungwon’s shoulder, allowing his voice to take over completely. It’s rather strange actually, how calming his voice is like he’s not even singing any old tune but rather an enchanting spell to make Hoseok fall even further, to drown even more into his chilling yet still oddly warming embrace and the way his fingertips dance over the fabric of his t-shirt just over his stomach. Hoseok is practically melting into the touch, letting it and his voice heal all of the cracks in his mind.

He opens his eyes once again, staring up at the ceiling with distant eyes that he can’t even really see the ceiling at all. He can’t really see anything. All that exists in this moment is him, Hyungwon, and the voice ringing in his head and daring to soothe him into a peaceful slumber. Maybe Hyungwon’s noticed his lack of sleep.

“Hyungwon?” he calls and Hyungwon doesn’t stop his humming but instead squeezes his arms around him even more. “Do you remember how you promised to show me your drawings?” Only now does Hyungwon’s singing fade and Hoseok feels how disappointment washes over him.

“Hmm? That was made nearly three years ago, why bring it up now?”

“Because I haven’t forgotten it!” Hoseok smiles against his words. “I can imagine framing and lining the walls with them,” there’s a hint of hopefulness to his voice and Hyungwon finds it rather precious.

“It was forever ago that I last even held a brush, what makes you believe I even still can paint?”

“Because you were an artist for just as many years, so even if you’re rusty I know you’d be to pick up all your techniques again quickly!” Hoseok finally straightens himself once more and closes the sketchbook, tossing it to the side of the bed as he decides to just finish it later. And Hyungwon adjusts his position, his legs becoming a little stiff so he finally spreads them out, fitting them perfectly at either sides of Hoseok.

“I give you piano and violin lessons already, is that not enough?” Hyungwon chuckles, taking in Hoseok’s scent and listening to how his heart beats rhythmically and his breaths follow it.

Hoseok twists his body in Hyungwon’s hold just enough to see his face in the corner of his eyes. “You need to give me singing lessons as well.”

“Only if you teach me how to dance.”

“You’re too lazy with dancing!” Hoseok bites back, chuckling into his words and hearing a steady laugh right into his ear as well.

Hyungwon buries his faces in the crook of Hoseok’s neck, breathing in his scent which seems to be a blend of vanilla and lavender with a hint of strawberry as well. An odd mix, but also rather pleasing. His humming has long since faded but now the gentle way he’s holding Hoseok is actually rather precious, and Hoseok wonders if it’s laughable just how soft he finds Hyungwon at times. And he drowns himself in that thought, letting the bone-deep cold of Hyungwon’s body and his hands around him turn to a warmth that Hoseok can’t even explain.

Perhaps his life is covered in that same fragile glass and perhaps it has the cracks of a spider’s web lining the sheet. Maybe one day it’ll shatter and it’ll bury Hoseok under it with all his troubles and regrets and worries and his twisted paranoia that creeps up on him when he closes his eyes and thinks _maybe sleep will come soon_. It didn’t matter if it breaks him under its shards of glass, if it pokes at every insecurity he lets destroy him during the daytime. Because that’s not how Hyungwon makes him feel. It’s odd, maybe, even Hoseok thinks it’s a little strange at times; the warmth and safety that Hyungwon makes him feel with just a few simple touches, a tap of his finger at his skin, a thumb over his lips, and a few gentle words. It’s funny how little it takes.

And it’s even funnier, he supposes, how even when Hyungwon’s pressing against his neck, his fangs poking out and Hoseok’s blood is rushing from the adrenaline picking up, he’s still not scared. There’s only one thing that still scares him after all of these years, and he can’t always pinpoint why. But it’s not this. It’s not even ever the feeling of his blood trickling down his neck, being lapped up by Hyungwon’s tongue. It’s never the risk that one day Hyungwon could break, that he could snap and never pull away, bleeding Hoseok dry (he knows this isn’t even a risk anymore). It’s never the state of vulnerability he allows himself to so easily be pushed into.

It’s never anything Hyungwon does or controls.

It’s actually something Hyungwon can’t control, something he himself might never realise he’s doing until Hoseok points it out. And it’s in that moment when the peace is shattered and Hyungwon’s grip on him gets tighter, his head pulling back, that Hoseok can feel that fear creeping up on him, baring itself into him. Just before his breaths become ragged, he jumps from the bed, pulling himself from Hyungwon’s grasp and leaving him confused.

“I-I-I should wash up before bed—” he says in a hurry, unable to even look at Hyungwon. He hurries to the door, pulling at the knob but not twisting it. And he stops. Fear still clouding his vision as he can feel it creeping inside his mind, crawling and poking at his skin like needles. But still, he stops. He stops and looks at the door, wondering why this is how it always happens. Why after these long four years he still runs when he knows with complete certainty that there is nothing to fear. That he’ll never be hurt and Hyungwon would never dare.

And that’s why he stands there, fighting back against his trembling hand, and speaks, his voice hushed and barely audible even to himself, “h-has it been over two months already?” And yet Hyungwon hears him as loud and as clear as can be, but he doesn’t dare speak, keeping his lips closed delicately as he leans back on the bed with his wrists. “It has, hasn’t it?”

When Hyungwon refuses to speak again, Hoseok spins around more in worry than anything else. And he’s glad to see Hyungwon watching him with a smile on his face, his eyes that normal, beautiful shade of red that Hoseok’s always loved. And finally the fear falls backs, slipping from his mind after what feels like was an eternity, though it was no more than a minute or two that it devoured him.

“Hyungwon, why didn’t you remind me?” His hand is still on the doorknob, but he waves the other, calling Hyungwon over to him.

“Are you certain?” the brunet calls, standing from the bed with slow, steady steps and Hoseok watches as his eyes turn a deep red as though all the blood begins to pool to the surface and the colour bleeds slightly (yet harshly) around the iris, giving this odd look of bloodshot eyes to top it off with. Hoseok’s more than certain. In fact, he welcomes it; he loves it. He stares back at Hyungwon’s deep red eyes, that thin ring of silver still following his every moment and twitch as the fear creeps back in.

This is it, this is the only thing that still scares him. The look in Hyungwon’s eyes, so hungry and dark, so violent and so _dangerous_. It doesn’t make Hoseok feel threatened though, in fact it’s just an odd, almost crippling feeling of losing his mind to the fear, yet still feeling his heart beat a little fast at the sight of Hyungwon, and safety still washing over him. It’s the feeling of wanting to run away, far, far away, yet still just wanting to throw his arms over Hyungwon and feel his ice-cold hands against him.

“Are you scared of me?” Hyungwon asks, coming up to a stop just mere inches from Hoseok, causing the fear to lead his feet back more as he presses himself into the door.

“N-No…” He tries to swallow the lump that has risen into his throat, but it just won’t go down.

Hyungwon brings a hand up to his cheek, cupping it without Hoseok even daring to pull away. And that warmth washes over him again as Hyungwon rubs his thumb over his skin so delicately. “You’re a bad liar,” he adds in with a smile. It’s so odd still, no matter how many times Hoseok sees it, to see how Hyungwon’s eyes glow an unnerving hue of red, violently bloodshot and angry, how he stares at Hoseok with the most balance between hungry and wanting to devour him, and caring and wanting to hold him close and whisper sweet little nothings in his ear; and his lips curved into a beautiful smile.

He doesn’t know rather it’s strange or not how, even though he feels his legs getting weak, he throws his arms around Hyungwon’s neck and pulls him close, closing that gap between them with a needy kiss. But it’s soft at first, filled with longing and not desperation. Only soft, slow movements of their lips against each other; yet it’s still needy. Or maybe it’s just needy on Hoseok’s end, because even when Hyungwon slides his tongue against his bottom lip, Hoseok parts his lips without a second thought or any thought at all. All he knows in this moment is the feeling of Hyungwon’s lips pressed against his and the way his tongue is tangling with his own.

He feels weak, powerless in the situation but still it doesn’t scare him. Rather, he loves it. He loves letting Hyungwon lead him, letting him take full control and tell him what to do in these situations. Just the feeling of how Hyungwon presses him more into the door in an attempt to get even closer to him makes Hoseok’s mind race and his blood pump faster. And of course, the adrenaline of knowing what’s to come makes it all so much more intense and makes his blood boil simply to remind him. 

And he loves every second of it.

Even when Hyungwon pulls away, a string of saliva connecting their tongues for a mere second before Hyungwon runs his over his lips, that darkness still in his eyes and etching itself into Hoseok’s. Hyungwon’s peels Hoseok’s hands off of him carefully, but he changes all of that in just a second when he slams them against the door harshly, hearing Hoseok hiss as he pins his wrists to the door at either side of his head. And he leans close, smirking as he traces his tongue over Hoseok’s jaw, feeling his head tilt to an angle to give him more room as he sinks into the feeling so quickly. With his eyes closed, Hyungwon smiles against the delicate flesh and trails his lips downwards, kissing and stopping just at the side of his throat. He presses his lips against it, feeling how Hoseok’s pulse becomes rapid against his lips. “I don’t know who loves this part more,” he whispers, trailing oddly soft, butterfly kisses over to the crook of his neck, “you or me?” Testing it first, he pokes his tongue out at the flesh, gently gliding the tip over Hoseok’s skin and watching how he allows himself to be destroyed right then and there. Hoseok can feel his knees threatening to give out from under him and he’s even more thankful for Hyungwon’s hold around his wrists that are keeping him standing.

“Hurry up…” Hoseok breaths, his breath already heavy and dry. He knows Hyungwon can’t go long without a taste, and he’s not gonna let Hyungwon challenge himself to see how long he can before he goes insane. but that’s not why he’s doing this; that’s never why he allows Hyungwon to break him apart even for the smallest lick of blood. It’s so much more than just that.

Hyungwon parts his lips, letting the sharp pair of fangs poke at the space of his neck just above his shoulder in an almost teasing way — perhaps to Hoseok it is. Neither of them dare to move even an inch as Hyungwon stares down at the smooth skin of Hoseok’s neck before him. Watching it, watching how it trembles but not tasting it, not yet. Hoseok’s head is rolled back against the door, tilted a little to the side and he’s staring up at the ceiling yet his vision is clouded with the blood rush coursing through him. His vision is blank, draped in a hazy white as he can’t even see the ceiling above him, but he doesn’t care to see them anyway; it’s so all his all senses can kick in, can accelerate to the point that he can hear his blood coursing through his veins, reminding him that it can spill at any second now and he’s simply _overjoyed_ at the thought. He can hear how the muscles and bones in his shoulders and in his wrists twist and crack as he trembles underneath Hyungwon’s strong hold, his strength unimaginable to any human. He can feel how the bones in his fingers move against each other when he bends them, it being one of the few movements he can still make.

And he can feel how the layer of sweat trickles down the back of his neck, feeling like a million tiny little needles grazing over his flesh, just waiting for the perfect spot or moment to pierce through its surface. And Hyungwon’s fangs— _oh, Hyungwon’s fangs_ , so beautifully curved and aimed at his neck, digging into his throat, teasing and daring him to move or to even breathe. But he can’t breathe. Hoseok’s holding his breath in his lungs, trapping it as though he’s the one daring Hyungwon; to see how long he’ll tease him for because he can’t control himself anymore or until he can’t risk Hoseok passing out. And the blond wonders which will come first.

But Hyungwon has a lot of time on his hands, more than Hoseok ever will, and he can wait as long as is needed to, and he would — one day. For now though, when he feels Hoseok’s fingers twitch against the burn in his own lungs and the tightening of his own chest, Hyungwon finally gives him what he wants, what they both want, and sinks his fangs into the sensitive flesh, feeling and hearing how the skin tears against the sharpness and the pressure.

The breath Hoseok held in is pushed from his lungs with force, hissing into the air through his teeth. Well, first it was a hiss, then a scream ripping from his throat, and that fades into a whimper before, at last, becoming nothing more than a mere gentle moan as Hyungwon stills. His fangs far enough in Hoseok’s neck, the blood seeping out from the edges and sliding down to Hyungwon’s tongue pressing against his flesh as well.

His fingers try desperately to find something, anything to hold onto, but Hyungwon’s unmistakable strength is still rendering that impossible. His toes curl against the carpet beneath them and his knees buckle, pulling him down and sliding him against Hyungwon’s body. A strange yet familiar sensation sparks through his body, starting at the fresh wound Hyungwon’s fangs are still sunk into and spreading as far as to the tips of his toes. It’s a feeling that’s hard to pin down with words alone as it always renders him paralyzed, his body going stiff and an odd tingling starting at his finger tips and toes and spreading up to his head, short-circuiting his brain and making him see red against the blurry white haze that is still his vision.

He can see nothing but the blurs of white and red that engulf him, take him under a surface deeper than pain and excitement and the joy that he feels when Hyungwon feeds from him. Something that makes him feel like everything but also nothing at the same time. Like he’s not there, like he doesn’t exist or that he never did, yet still burning a constant reminder into him his mind that he’s alive and he bleeds and he hurts, and he loves it. He loves every second of it.

But the worst moment of all — or perhaps the best to him — is when Hyungwon pulls back; when his fangs tear out of him, the blood oozing and rushing from the two wounds. The feeling of it dripping down his neck and all of his senses suddenly kicking back in all at once. It’s strange, painful, but not disliked — not by far. To go from one moment of being nothing and everything all at once; to be so nonexistent yet feel the universe around him, inside of him; to be just barely a floating conscious questioning rather Hyungwon’s fangs are laced with a poison that traps him in such a state yet feeling like he’s the one trapping Hyungwon in his desperation and enchanting him; to go from all that back to reality as the bright blurs of his vision fade into the darkness that is _his reality_ and the tips of his fingers to twitch violently as he begins to feel everything. Everything all at once. Every little movement and breath and twitching of his muscles are like sharp, stabbing vibrations shaking him back to _this reality_.

The feeling never actually lasts for longer than a mere second but it always feels like an eternity to Hoseok: that split second before Hyungwon reattaches his lips to the open wound, his tongue licking up the blood that pours from his neck before sucking more and more of it out of the wounds.

Perhaps that’s the most painful part of the whole thing.

Hoseok’s eyes widen to their fullest, his pupils shrinking drastically as short rushes of pain shoot through his body, clouding his vision once more in blurs of red whenever Hyungwon would suck at the wound harder, drawing out more and more blood as his hunger takes full control of him. Hoseok knows how red the area will be already, how long he’ll have to care for it before it becomes just another oddly shaped scar on his body from Hyungwon, yet he still lets out a gentle moan as the pain subsides simply from being so used to it.

For Hyungwon, the taste of blood is so different from how humans describe it to be, how Hoseok describes it. For Hyungwon, it’s like a pinch of bitterness at first before a hint of sweet fills his mouth and it slides down his throat. It leaves a sense of fullness yet always leaves him craving for more at the same time, craving for that feeling on his tongue and how it soothes at his throat; how its taste is worth more than he can ever give yet it makes him feel like he has everything he’ll ever need and more thanks to Hoseok.

It’s so rare, so precious, so perfect, and it keeps him from losing his mind, from becoming something worse than he already is. And Hoseok gives him that so willing, without any protests. He gives him exactly the amount he needs every few months that he needs it most, and he asks for nothing in return. But, then again, Hoseok does enjoy it just as much as Hyungwon does, if not even more. And that is proven from all the scars on his neck and all the little ones that cover his body and each one is different from the other: some Hoseok allowed so Hyungwon could feed, having become hungry and deprived; some Hoseok himself asked for and Hyungwon gave them to him willing; and others he _begged_ for. It is no secret between the two just how cruel Hyungwon can be when he wants to, nor is it a secret just how much Hoseok loves it.

He finally releases Hoseok’s wrists, pulling away at last and licking up the last few few drops of blood that spill from the wounds, and looks at how red they are from his tight grip and being pushed against the door a little too hard. But Hoseok never once complains. Hyungwon is glad though the red is not too deep and angry that it’ll bruise for any longer than a few hours to a day even. And Hyungwon swears that Hoseok let out a small whimper of delight when he looked at them as well. And god the sound that Hoseok makes when he looks at Hyungwon and how his colourless lips were stained red.

Hyungwon is about to pull away, about to thank Hoseok for the much needed taste, but arms are thrown around his neck and he’s pulled into another kiss. He feels how the blood on his lips smears against Hoseok’s and how the blond parts his lips, prying Hyungwon’s open with his tongue and slipping it inside.

When the disgusting taste of blood meets his tongue though, he becomes a bit hesitant for a moment but fights through it as Hyungwon gives him the control simply to explore his mouth. But it’s so short-lived that Hyungwon wonders if he hated that moment of control that he gave him, but he pulls back with a gasp and all.

The look in Hoseok’s eyes as he stares at Hyungwon’s pretty lips, unable to keep eye contact with him; Hyungwon knows this look far too well. But it’s no surprise, he knows well enough by now that Hoseok almost always gets like this after he allows Hyungwon to feed. Hyungwon finds humans so strange, how some of them can get so turned on by this kind of pain, but when he sees that look and desperation in Hoseok he finds it precious instead of strange or funny or even disgusting.

“I-I want you to…” Hoseok’s voice trails off, a bright red hue spreading over his cheeks and he isn’t sure if it’s from the embarrassment of nearly saying everything, or the small loss of blood.

Hyungwon, being the tease that he is and is loved for by Hoseok, slides a leg in between the blond’s, letting his thigh press against Hoseok’s crotch and the growing bulge over it. “What is it? Come on now, you can tell me.”

His arms are still wrapped around Hyungwon’s neck, and Hyungwon has one hand on Hoseok’s waist and the other dragging through his silver locks. He forces his gaze back up to Hyungwon, noticing the glow in his eyes is finally fading once again yet the look in his eyes still lingers. He nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he doesn’t want to say it. He’s trapped against the door with Hyungwon’s thigh closely rubbing against him, sending little rushes of dry pleasure to course through his body that aren’t entirely pleasant but still manage to do something for him and he’s letting himself drown in the feeling. Maybe a little too much. His mind is going blank and the fight against his own urges is becoming more and more difficult as the words roll to the tip of his tongue, threatening him with little stings to his throat and a twisting of his stomach. 

He doesn’t want to say it, not when he’s fully aware that Hyungwon already knows what he wants. Hoseok wants it though, he wants it more than anything in this moment as the feeling of Hyungwon’s fangs in his neck is still fresh in his mind.

“I-I want you to…”

_No._

_No he can’t say it. He can’t give Hyungwon that kind of satisfaction and victory over him once more._

He needs some control of the situation, of himself, and maybe even of Hyungwon. He can’t let him win so easily, he needs to win for once. His blood has already been spilled for Hyungwon’s sake and now this is for him, this is for all the control he’s ever given to Hyungwon and all the sweet little ways he’s let him break him in still such satisfyingly beautiful ways. For all the times he’s drowned in just his scent and let his icy embrace become his home even when his heart had risen into his throat. This is for—

“Punish me,” he blurts out without any fight back and it takes him a few seconds to realise he had even said anything at all. At first he thought it was just a small little daydream, but the smirk that spreads over Hyungwon’s face tells him otherwise and suddenly the whole world is crashing once again. Funny how all it took was to lose himself in his thoughts and a little loss of self control.

Worst of all is how Hyungwon laughs. _Laughs_. It echoes in Hoseok’s head, ringing and ringing louder with each chime. And before Hoseok can aim a slap at his chest, Hyungwon adds in, leaning close to do so and mocking him, “punish you? What a rather interesting request you have there.” He traces a finger gently around the bruised area that surrounds the fresh wounds on Hoseok’s neck, admiring his work with a grin to show off his fangs in a teasing manner. “Have I not already punished you enough, though?” He peels one of Hoseok’s hands off of him, looking at the red irritated marks that currently line his wrists, and he runs his tongue over his stained lips at the sight. 

A small whine escapes Hoseok’s throat and he reverts his gaze to the ceiling, rolling the back of his head against the wooden panels of the door. “P-Please just… Just make me a fucking wreck already,” he bites back, impatience marking his words and his tone.

Hyungwon leans close, his eyes staring back into Hoseok’s, hearing as he finally swallows the lump in his throat. “Gladly,” he says slowly, letting his overjoyment seep out with those words so Hoseok knows exactly what he’s in for, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sin sorry please burn me and destroy me and I am sorry God for the sins that will be committed next chapter.
> 
> Comments and kudos are highly appreciated thank you! And as always you can come burn me at [my twitter](https://twitter.com/hyungwonhoe_%22) if you'd like!


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